The Vulcan Who Drew On Napkins
by BOMB4Y
Summary: BL,Slash: A waiter often finds himself afflicted by nerds dining in his workplace when Sci-Fi conventions are held. This all changes when he starts collecting a series of illustrated napkins left on the table by a short, unassuming Trekkie.
1. I

_**A note before we begin: **__These story parts come with illustrations each, which will be omitted from archives that do not support images being uploaded. The proper formatting with images can be found on LiveJournal, but here they will be substituted at times with descriptions or a tag.  
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><p><strong>The Vulcan Who Drew On Napkins<strong>

I.

Nerds. They usually had nasally voices and snorted when they laughed while discussing things of no significance to the world as if these subjects were everything. He despised them, and it was no secret that he did.

Joseph worked in a little diner situated a little away from a hotel. Twice a year a Science Fiction convention would be held there, and many nerds would congregate for their little Mecca of flying saucers. Business was usually slow where he worked, but during those two times of a year the diner would be packed with nerds of all kinds for three days in conjunction with each event.

Some of the more fanatical nerds would still be dressed in their, as Joseph would describe it, pathetic costumes of theirs. That evening was no exception. A group of four nerds had just stepped in, waiting to be seated; they were still dressed in their Star Trek costumes, two of whom had their tight-fitting costumes wrapped around their manly bulges snugly. Joseph didn't resist rolling his eyes as he showed them to their table, but fortunately none of them noticed as they were too engrossed chatting amongst themselves.

The evening wore on and the crowd began to dissipate. Those four nerds were still eating and drinking, laughing and talking rather loudly, much to his annoyance. At long last they got up and left after having their bill settled. He went to the table to clear it, where, having arrived at it, he stopped short and stared in amazement. One of the paper napkins had been left unused – or rather, it _had_ been used – on it was a detailed pen drawing of a seahorse with a mock Art-Nouveau styled border.

One of the nerds had drawn it. He wondered who. Quietly he picked up the napkin, put it in his pocket, and cleared the table up as quickly as he could.

_Caption: Image 1: Seahorse  
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	2. II

II.

Vulcan. It was a Vulcan. Joseph secretly congratulated himself, remembering his evening of obsessive examination of a group of people he considered now to be not-so-detestable. Disgusting still, since they were, you know, _nerds_, but not as detestable as he would have considered them to be as before.

The same group had appeared again that evening, dressed in the same costumes. Joseph hadn't observed them very well the day before, but he did now, and he could distinguish them after watching each and every one of them. They all wore red Enterprise uniforms; two of them were Klingons, one thin and soldierly, one thick and thunderous - one was a Vulcan, short, slim and unassuming, with a rather faraway look in his eyes - and the other was a rather "abstract"-looking human, full of bulges and a hearty laugh. He reminded Joseph a little of Picasso's cubist paintings.

Some other waiter had seated them and waited on them. He continued to watch them from afar, sometimes coming very near to observe, and this was when he found out it was the Vulcan who had drawn on the napkin. As they sat and waited to be served, the Vulcan had quietly and carefully pressed his napkin flat before himself, and fetching out what looked like a ball pen from his pocket, begun to draw on it as the others chatted on. Sometimes they'd talk to him and he'd look up and reply and smile – and my, did that ever brighten his face – and then he'd turn to focus his attention back again on his napkin, continuing from where he'd stopped last. Joseph found himself hovering close once too often, trying to look at how the piece was progressing.

The diners were piling in, and Joseph found himself called away and rather busy waiting on other diners. The evening wore on, and the crowd eventually died down – thankfully the four of them were still seated there. He turned around for a bit to place a glass of juice on the table he was waiting on, relieved. But when he turned around again to look, to his horror, he found that they had left and his colleague had begun to clear the table up. Uttering a loud, "STOOOOOOOOPPP!" which temporarily rendered the boy immobile, Joseph rushed to the table and snatched up a napkin from where he knew the Vulcan had been sitting.

His heart sank when he saw it. It was partially ruined. Some runny gravy had fallen on the napkin and spotted it, smearing the ink and causing it to bleed. He took it to the back and dabbed it with some tissues, hoping the water wouldn't seep in more. It dried and after a while, he put the napkin in his pocket and carried on with his work. After a bit he began to smile. It was a cute picture, in any case. The lot had called for a bit of seafood that night. On the napkin was a picture of a crab with a fancy border and a scroll lettered simply, "CRAB".

_Caption: Image 2: Damaged Crab  
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	3. III

III.

Name. Joseph had found out his name. It wasn't anything odd and strange and ambitious as he thought it would be. It was Don. Plain, simple Don: just as short and unassuming as the Vulcan in question. It wasn't _Spock _or _Fork _or _Tiberious Absolucous Damasculaourion_ or anything like that – it was just Don. Now Joseph had a name to go with the face and the stylized napkins.

It was remarkable how he'd found that out quite by chance. They'd always been talking gaily those two days before, when the convention began and they'd started dining there, but if they had ever uttered his name, Joseph had never heard it till then, even when he'd been watching them so closely before. Joseph had had the chance of being their waiter. Well, it wasn't so much chance as it was him offering to swap tables with his colleague. He wasn't going to risk another ruined napkin.

He'd brought the food to their table. The "abstract human", as Joseph took to calling him, seized the plate stoutly and looked beside him. "Don, put that away. Your food's here." In which the Vulcan looked up, distracted from his handiwork, and shyly put the napkin aside to allow more room on the table for his dinner.

Time ticked on and the customers came in and out. The foursome continued eating, drinking and laughing throughout the night. Joseph looked at them, and a feeling of warmth washed over him. They were a lively, loud but happy bunch. Don was a little quieter than the other two, but not as quiet as the thin Klingon; sometimes he'd laugh at something one of them said and Joseph could hear him clearly, a thing that he'd never noticed before during the first time they visited the diner. After a while they paid up and left. Joseph went up to the table and picked up the napkin tucked neatly at the side of it. It was a drawing of a hen with a nest of eggs, lined with a wooden border and straw. He put it in his pocket and grinned as he went on clearing the table. Don had had chicken that evening.

_Caption: Image 3: Hen with Nest of Eggs_


	4. IV

IV.

Contact. He'd finally made proper contact with the alien life forms, after a few months of not seeing them. The convention before had ended after three days and for a bit the diner had been quiet, with the occasional screaming customer that every diner seems to have experienced whether they were in New York or Texas. But now another one was held, and the nerds had come pouring in for food and drink.

The four had come in again, this time dressed in yellow uniforms. They were as bright and cheerful as before, the only key differences being the thin Klingon now wore one of the most distinguished pair of glasses Joseph had ever seen, and Don looked a little weary. He smiled at them and brought them to a table, seating them and handing out the menus. As the two Klingons discussed the steak order in their language, while the human struggled to try to understand their banter, Joseph glanced at the Vulcan, who was lightly tapping the menu with a finger, biting his lower lip. The waiter coughed into his hand politely. "Don."

The four stopped and looked up in surprise. Joseph could only grin sheepishly at them, but he was concerned all the same. "You don't look so good. How about having some hot chocolate? It's pretty cold outside."

"O-Oh, sure! Thank you," Don blinked and smiled gratefully. Joseph smiled back and took the rest of their orders. He stepped away, and things went on as usual. Eventually they got up to leave and Joseph came to clear the table. He picked the napkin up and laughed, flushing red up to his ears in mirth.

On the napkin was a drawing of a steaming cup of chocolate beside a window with snow outside, titled simply, "Warm".

_Caption: Image 4: Hot Cocoa_


	5. V

V.

Sick. Don was sick - he didn't turn up that evening, and it was because his cold had gotten worse. The nerds had come in, chatting just as loudly as they had before. Joseph had come to seat them and he noticed immediately that they were missing one member. He looked at them in bewilderment. They spoke before he could even open his mouth.

"It seems we've become regulars here," one of the Klingons chuckled. "You know us by sight. And yes, we are missing one member."

"Don's sick. But not to worry, we bundled him up in blankets before we came. I guess we're just gonna have to make it quick and have something for a takeaway, if possible," the human chimed in while the tall, thin Klingon nodded. He looked regal in his glasses.

"We aren't coming back here tomorrow, you know – we're leaving early," the regal Klingon, after a long pause as they pored over the menu, spoke up. "Dear, dear. It does seem like you'll miss poor Don, as much as he'll miss you. He'd meant to come back and thank you this evening."

"He thinks you're awesome sauce, whatever that means," the human grinned.

Joseph laughed; the first time he had around nerds in general. He took their orders and decided to recommend rice, sandwiches and soup for Don's takeaway. As he packed the food for the takeaway, he slipped in a small self-addressed envelope into the bag, in it a napkin and a note with the message, "_Get well soon. Send napkin drawing with envelope. Will pay you back postage next con._"

As per their word, the nerds didn't return the next evening. About five days later, Joseph received the envelope in his mailbox. There was only the napkin in it, no other thing with it, not even a note. On the napkin was a drawing of an angry-looking beetle, titled simply, "Caught a bug".

_Caption: Image 5: Seem to have caught a nasty bug_


	6. VI and Last

VI.

Confessed. Joseph had confessed, and he was nervous. He'd bumped into the "abstract-human" who'd been on a business trip nearby three weeks before, when the latter had decided to pop in to have a meal at the diner. Joseph hadn't recognized him at first, but the man had waved him over with the same old loud, hearty laugh as he'd always had. They didn't chat much, but before the "abstract-human" left, Joseph had given him a letter and asked him to "pass it on to Don".

The note in the letter was fairly simple. "_I love you_," he'd written. "_It's fine if you don't love me back. I just wanted you to know you're amazing._"

From Don there was never a reply. Months passed and the convention came again. Joseph half-wondered if Don would come at all to the diner, now that he'd received such a letter.

Four very familiar people stepped into the diner, laughing and chatting in a warm and lively manner, the same way they always had. They wore red uniforms, very much like the ones they were sporting when Joseph first seated them. They saw Joseph and waved their hellos as they went to their table, led by a waitress. He looked hard at Don, who smiled back, but said nothing and never beckoned to him. The customers poured in and soon all the tables were occupied. From the corner of his eye, Joseph saw Don sketching as usual, his gaze lowered, once in a while talking, laughing and nodding as his friends conversed with him. Nothing seemed out of order.

The evening went on and patrons came in and out. Soon the crowd began to die down and the diner went quiet again, with exception of a few rather loud and noisy tables. Just like before, the four nerds stood up to leave. Joseph hurried towards the table and snatched up the napkin. It was this time, a drawing of hills, stars and a heart-shaped cloud, and a scroll beneath with dark, printed letters. On the side of the borders were also words.

_Caption: Image 6:_ "_I love you, too. Meet Outside_"

Joseph slammed his hand on his table, causing his colleagues and the remaining diners to jump. He pocketed the napkin and without another word, sprinted past both tables and staff and out of the door.


End file.
